


Taken

by 2space_lesbo1



Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Kinda open ended actually, M/M, Monster!Anti, Okay okay, Wrote this when I was sad, do not read if you're feint of heart, major warning on this one, this one is really gruesome, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 18:03:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12173946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2space_lesbo1/pseuds/2space_lesbo1
Summary: Mark had been visiting the bar like he did often that night. One green haired man in particular caught his eye. And he must have caught the man's eye as well.He should have stayed home that night.





	Taken

**Author's Note:**

> Okay seriously take the rating and the warnings to heart with this one. I wrote this as a vent fic and there are some really disturbing scenes in this fic. Really graphic and disturbing scenes. Also, it's kind of based off of a piece of fanart. This one, actually:
> 
> http://caustic-synishade.tumblr.com/post/164156284117/just-turn-around-and-keep-going

The man is shorter than him but much more handsome by far. He is staring at one of the screens on one of the walls, head propped up by his hand. His green hair falls into his eyes and Mark is already getting hooked by the appearance. He stays seated on the other side of the bar, however, drinking his glass of water with clinking ice against the sides. He can't drink alcohol so many ask why he even goes to bars. 

It's to watch handsome men and women pass by, of course. It's where all of the best looking people go to look for other good looking people. 

Not that Mark could ever get a date, though. He can't ever hold one person down longer than a week or two. So, he just watches people pass. 

Including this green haired man with green eyes. 

Mark doesn't normally like facial hair on men, but he's kind of digging how this one looks with it. 

He sets his cup of water down with a heavy sigh, rubbing at his eyes in frustration. He really needs to eat a hobby when he's not working at his annoying job of engineering. Look, he does love engineering. But his boss is a total ass that expects way too much of all of his employees. Maybe he could take up painting. 

He actually laughs at the thought of himself painting. As if he could do that. He can't even draw a rock to save his life. 

His eyes drift back to the green haired stranger and he feels his face flush when he finds that they're looking back. He clears his throat and shifts in his seat, running his fingertip along the cool side, condensation wetting his skin. 

He glances up again when someone comes to stand beside his table. He bites down on his lip when he finds it to be the green haired man standing there, smirking down at him with a strange look in his eyes. 

“Hello,” the green haired man greeted and his voice is like music to Mark’s ears. It fills his mind and a strange fog begins to dull his thinking. “Is this seat taken?”

He should say no. It never works out. They date him for a day or two and then leave him with a broken heart. But, the fog in his mind is making his thinking slower and before he could stop himself he's saying: “It is now.”

The man smiles wider and sits down in front of Mark, hands clasping on the table in front of him. Mark believes for just a second that he saw his eyes glowing. “I'm Anti,” the man greeted and Mark finds the name weird but he doesn't comment on this fact. That would be rude. 

“Mark,” he replied and he should stop. But he's continuing, going against his best instincts. Isn't this how the urban legend goes? A handsome man or beautiful woman hypnotize their victim and steal them away, slowly revealing their true nature. He shrugs that idea off. It's always just been a legend. About the town monster that steals and devours the flesh of its victims. They're just stories made to help those deal with their grief after a loved one has gone missing. 

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mark,” Anti said and Mark likes the way his name sounds coming off of that Irish accented tongue. The man’s eyes flicker to his water questioningly. “You're a nice change, honestly. Most of the people here are drunk off their asses. Why aren't you like them?”

Mark shrugs, curling the top of his cup with his finger. He should stop. He should leave. But that Irish accent is so hypnotic… oh god. Hypnotic. “Yes, well, actually, I shouldn't be here,” Mark said because yes he shouldn't be. He should be home going to sleep. Plus, the hypnotism.. “I need to get home.”

He's standing to leave when the next words exit the Irishman's mouth, “Already? But we were just talking. You should sit back down.”

And oddly enough, he feels compelled to. So compelled to that he actually sits back down, eyes landing back into the gaze of the green pair. Suddenly he doesn't want to look, can't look away. 

“So…” Anti said with a hum, leaning forward against the table. His stomach presses into the table and he rests his chin in his hand, a curious look lighting his green eyes. “Are you busy later tonight.”

Technically, he's not. But then again, he needs to go to sleep early for the next day of work the following morning. But even as his sluggish mind is thinking this he answers, “No, I'm not.”

Anti smirks once more, one eyebrow raising. He reaches out and grabs one of Mark’s hands and more of that fog is crowding his mind, making him unable to think of leaving. He wants to. Wants to stand. To leave. But he can't. He's so… hypnotized. He should have left when he had the chance. 

“How about you come with me?” Anti suggested, a thumb running along Mark’s knuckles and he's nodding even though he knows he should not be. The smirk grows to a toothy grin and the man stands, pulling Mark to his feet and along behind him. He's not pulling hard. Mark could fight against him, pull away, sit back down. But he's not. He can't. 

Anti leads him out of the back foot of the bar. This leads into a dark alley and Mark can hardly see. The man finally releases his hand and he can think more clearly, is able to move his legs in the opposite direction. 

“Mark?” Anti asked just as he's fully turned. His entire body halts, freezes and he can't move. The man comes to stand directly behind him and he can feel his breath on his neck. “Where are you going?”

“I should be going home,” is what he manages to force from his throat. He's fighting against the fog. He needs to go home. He shouldn't stay here. Shouldn't let this man lead him where he wants to. 

“No, you shouldn't,” the man said in answer and Mark doesn't like that response. 

Finally, Mark is able to break free of the fog clouding his mind. He hurries forward as fast as his stiff legs will allow him to move. His knees protest against his movements but he forces them to move. This man obviously has ill intentions with him. Maybe he had poisoned his drink. Maybe he is the monster from the legends. Either way it's not looking too good for Mark. 

There's a laughter behind him and just as he's reaching the end of the alley two large hands grab his shoulders and drag him back. He's about to scream, to call out for help, when one of the large hands smacks down over his mouth, cutting him off. The fog is returning and even as he continues to try and coax his limbs to move, to fight, he's losing his control over them. They're going limp and pretty soon he can't move anymore. 

He's dragged back into the alley, back away from the light of the street. And when he looks back, expecting to see the man’s face, he's greeted instead by a pale and ugly looking creature. His scream is muffled by the hand still covering his mouth and terrible laughter erupts from the creature’s mouth, large and pointed teeth gleaming with saliva. Two green dots glow from black and sunken holes in its face and he can't look away from them despite how terrifying they are. 

“I'm not done with you,” the creature growled and it's voice is high pitched and sounds to be covered with static from a radio. Its eyes glow brighter for a moment and Mark’s widen as the fog grows to be too much for him. He falls completely limp in the creature’s hold and it chuckles, moving down and grabbing one of its feet. It begins to drag him across the concrete ground. 

He can do nothing as he's dragged across the street, head already aching from the creature’s presence and he can't focus too well. He should have figured out that Anti was what he was as soon as the Irishman had had that effect but he hadn't been able to. It was probably the affect it has on humans’ brains. 

He doesn't want to die, but he knows he's going to now that he's in the creature’s hold. He especially knows as the creature pulls him down into the sewers, away from any and all passing pedestrians so that they wouldn't be interrupted. 

Mark groans as he's placed down on the hard flooring, back against the brick wall. The creature is moving in front of him but he can't tell what it's doing, his vision is too blurry. And then it crawls back to him and one of its clawed fingers hooks the bottom of his chin, lightly pushing up. There's no resistance from Mark, he can't resist even if he wanted to. His head angles backwards and his tired and blurry eyes meet the gaze of the creature and his heart skips a beat. It looks so hungry… and he's it's next meal…

It's nostrils flare as it leans in, smelling at his skin. It seems to relish in his smell and a moment later it's tongue slides out from the thin space between its open fangs, dragging along his neck to get his taste. He groans at the feeling of the slimy tongue sliding across his neck slowly. It makes a murr of pleasure and draws in closer. Mark prepares himself for the first bite that would come. But, it doesn't. Instead, the creature slowly moves down to his legs, ripping his shoes off. His heart stops. No. It wouldn't start with his-

The creature grabs one of his feet and Mark shivers at the cold of the skin, of the air. And then the creature begins yanking and while he can't feel it he can hear his flesh tearing, bones snapping until finally his foot comes clean off. Mark can't even scream at the sight of his limb being just… fucking gone. Blood is already pouring from his now stump leg but he can't move or do anything and the creature is chewing on his foot, tearing bits of flesh from it. 

He can't do anything but watch as the creature fully eats the flesh from his foot and moves onto the other, humming the entire time it's doing this. He wants to scream, wants to throw up, wants to call for help or something but the creature’s influence on his mind is too much- he can't do anything but sit there as it slowly eats him alive. 

It finishes his other foot and pauses to lick at the blood on it's hands. It then crawls closer to Mark and crouches over his legs, biting into his right thigh and chewing slightly to draw out more blood. Mark can feel the teeth in his flesh, can see it but it doesn't cause him any pain. Maybe the creature doesn't want his screams to be heard. That's smart, actually. 

He just wishes it wasn't. 

Watching the creature slowly eating his leg is such a strange sight when it doesn't hurt. This is his flesh and bone and blood but he can't feel any of it. Just a dull tear as it's ripped off. 

There's no noise aside from the creature’s soft growling and the sound of his flesh being torn off and chewed. He's growing more and more tired, not just because of the effect this creature has on him but probably also from blood loss. There is too large of an amount around him, staining the dirt covered ground. His head leans back as the creature reaches his waist. It leans back, long tongue dragging along its blood covered teeth. 

There seems to be a pause where the creature merely hums, looking Mark up and down. Mark looks himself over. He didn't know long this has been happening, how long this creature has been feeding on him. But when he looks down both of his legs are gone. If he weren't under the creature's influence, he's sure he'd be screaming. He can see some of his organs slipping out, including his entrails. Funny… they look almost like thick pink noodles. 

The creature shifts and moves to be crouched beside Mark, grabbing either side of his face. He groans at the coldness of the skin of his cheeks. Then again, they too were probably deathly cold. Maybe now the creature would be finishing him off. 

Green and glowing eyes look into his own, that same hunger still filling them. It doesn't look as large now- some of it must have been sated by devouring Mark’s lower half. But he can tell that it's still hungry. Maybe it's going to eat his face… His hand lands on the creature’s arm. It had been a sluggish movement and he hadn't even known he was doing it. But now he can feel the slick and cold skin beneath his fingertips and he wants to move his hand but his thoughts are too sluggish. 

Looking at his situation now…. at least he can't feel any of this. The creature had been merciful in that sense.

A few moments pass of the creature’s face slowly inching towards him when the dull and faded sounds of footsteps echoes from nearby. Why the hell would anyone be down here? His eyes widen fractionally and the creature must have heard the footsteps, too, because it's heard quickly turns towards the noise, teeth grinding together as it snarls. It must not be happy that another person is walking in on its meal. 

He realizes that this could be his chance. If he could just… his bottom jaw quakes in the slightest and a small whimper breaks the air around him. The creature’s hold tightens on his face but he can't feel the pain of the claws digging into his cheeks. Then a bright light lands on them and Mark’s eyes dart to the area, finding a man holding a flashlight. He looks ill as he stares at the scene before him. 

“Turn back,” the creature growled, voice a gravelly mess. It doesn't have that fake Irish accent anymore. It must have gotten tired of speaking like it had one. “Continue on your way…”

The man doesn't seem to know what to do. He looks to be paralyzed in fear. His eyes flicker from Mark to the creature and back to Mark. Mark tries his best to beg for help with his eyes, only able to whimper as opposed to speaking. The creature growls softly- at him or the man, he can't tell. 

He prays the man will help him. But then his heart shatters when the man turns, plunging them back into semi darkness. The creature seems to grin and it makes a noise similar to a chuckle. But then it's face snaps back to Mark and it looks angry as he continues to whimper. He lets him fall to the ground and he groans softly, unable to move from the position he was dropped to. 

“Shut up,” the creature growled and the fog worsens in Mark’s mine. His throat tightens and he finds it hard to speak- hard to breathe. And then the creature is back at his open stomach and is leaned over once more, lifting up the shirt to get to the flesh more easily. It bites into his stomach and chews a little before pulling upwards, taking a large chunk from his already torn up bottom. 

Mark’s vision is filling with black dots- he's probably lost too much blood. He's going to die soon. And he's going to be eaten alive by this monster. 

He didn't even get to do what he wanted in life.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're still here: I told you it was crazy. But I feel you read this far, I hope you liked it. Even if it is a bit gross lol. Also yes it's open ended. Mark could be dead, but something could have happened. I'll let y'all decide what happened ;)
> 
> Also, I just got back from watching "IT" so yes I was inspired to write some monster shit okay leave me alone


End file.
